


Pleasure Cruise

by Sarahtoo



Series: Phrack Fucking Friday [11]
Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Boat Sex, Established Phrack, F/M, Phrack Fucking Friday, Prompt Fic, pff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 03:26:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11705847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarahtoo/pseuds/Sarahtoo
Summary: Phryne has a new acquisition, and she takes Jack along to show it off. Shenanigans follow.





	Pleasure Cruise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fire_Sign](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Sign/gifts), [Kanste](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kanste/gifts).



> This fic is a combination of prompts from Fire_Sign and Kanste (happy _very_ belated birthday, my friend!). Fire_Sign's prompt was “The yacht in 3x07 is Phryne’s. She decides to take Jack sailing.” And Kanste's was “Let’s get these wet things off.” You can see how they went together, right??

“What are we doing here, Miss Fisher?” Jack carried the heavy picnic basket down the pier with two hands—how long did she think they’d be gone? It was heavy enough to contain food for days.

“Come on, Jack, where’s your sense of adventure?” Phryne called back over her shoulder. She carried a wide bucket bag over her arm, and he admired the way she moved in her navy blue sailor blouse and white trousers, her parasol twirling overhead.

“I couldn’t manage both it and this basket,” he retorted.

She sent a good-humored but quelling look back at him as she came to a stop before a long, narrow boat with white-painted sides and brass details, its steam pipe gleaming in the morning light.

“We’re here!” She stopped, a delighted grin taking over her face.

“Isn’t this the boat you rented for Angela Lombard to use during that tournament of yours?” Jack stopped beside her, setting the basket down on the planked dock.

“The very same! She came up for sale a couple of months ago. Her owner found that he’d made some rather unfortunate investments, and he needed to come up with some quick cash. He knew how much I admired the _Ena_ , and he contacted me.” She sighed happily, her eyes skimming over the boat’s shining glass and tall chimney.

“So you bought a yacht,” Jack said, stepping up beside her and setting his hands on his hips beneath his casual jacket. He’d felt rather ridiculous this morning, putting on what felt like tennis whites and a new, blue-and-white sweater vest she’d bought him, but the admiration in Phryne’s eyes had been enough to have him swallowing his discomfort.

“I did—isn’t she _glorious_?” She wrapped both hands around his arm and squeezed. “I had to do some refitting, of course, to make her into more than a place to smoke cigars and hold card parties, but it was worth it. Wait until you see the interior, Jack!”

“I have no doubt that you’ll have made it beautiful, Miss Fisher, but do you even know how to sail a boat?”

“Of course I do! I know a lot of things,” she looked up at him through her lashes, and he smirked down at her. “But it doesn’t matter, anyway, because she has a steam engine. It’ll be perfectly fine.”

“So where are we going, then?”

“I know the perfect place—come on!” She released his arm with a slight squeeze and bounded aboard, not even waiting for his steadying hand as she headed toward the helm. “You can put that in the galley while I get us underway. Oh!” She stopped and waited for Jack, holding out her bag. “Put this below too, will you?”

“Yes, Miss Fisher.” His tone was dry, and she crinkled her nose at him.

“Don’t be like that—this is going to be fun! Come and join me, all right?” She stretched up to press a kiss to his cheek as he took the bag from her, then pulled away, raising her hand to wipe away the lipstick she’d left behind. With a stroke of his jaw, she turned back to the pilot’s cabin and ducked inside.

With a small smile at her enthusiasm, Jack headed belowdecks. The interior of the boat was bright with sunlight that shone through the etched-glass windows lining the stairwell cover. At the bottom of the stairs, two doors stood open on either side of a small hallway. The rooms were panelled in glossy wood, with plush fabrics and bright brass fittings pushing the luxury to the maximum. One door led into a small galley, and he stepped in to set the basket into a spot that seemed intended for it, in a small raised tray area that would keep it from sliding across the floor with the motion of the waves. He looked in amazement at the glass-fronted wine cabinet and the rows of crystal goblets that hung from custom-built shelves; they chimed against each other softly as they swayed with the motion of the boat.

Turning away, he moved back out into the stairwell and through to the other door, which proved to lead into a bedroom. The wide bed was piled with pillows and covered with a lush cut-velvet bedspread in a deep teal. Hooks along the wall beside the door provided him a place to hang Phryne’s bag, and he examined the small watercolors of aquatic life that were scattered around the walls. Drawers were built into the wall at the foot of the bed, and above them were fully stocked bookshelves, the books in them—he spotted a copy of the complete works of Shakespeare and several Zane Grey novels, along with some less wholesome titles—held in place by a thin brass bar. Seeing his favorites mixed in with hers, Jack felt a small lump form in his throat. 

Swallowing hard, Jack moved to open a closed door to one side of the bed; it proved to hide tiny washroom with a toilet, sink, and standing shower. The towels folded on the wall rack were a plush turquoise, and two silk robes—a woman’s in red, heavy with Chinese embroidery, and a man’s in dark blue jacquard with a black satin lapel—hung side by side on the back of the door. He reached out to touch them, the lump in his throat flowing down to become a growing warmth in his chest. He knew that she loved him, and yet it still awed him when he saw the places she’d made for him in her life.

Back in the bedroom, Jack shrugged out of his jacket, hanging it beside Phryne’s bag, then, after a moment’s hesitation, pulled off his sweater vest as well. It was hot, he reasoned, and this was supposed to be a completely casual day. He might as well be comfortable.

As he climbed back up the stairs, Jack looked around curiously. The breeze was strong and warm, picking up his hair and plastering his shirt to his body. The scent of the sea air stung his nose, and the sun rang gleaming notes on the boat’s brass fittings. Phryne had already guided them away from the dock; billows of white steam emerging from the smokestack and white-tipped waves pushing out to either side.

“Jack!” 

Looking back to the helm, he saw Phryne beckoning him to join her. She looked to be totally in control, the smooth muscles in her arms flexing as she turned the wheel. His heart began to pound. They had been lovers for over a year—since she’d returned from London—but she took his breath away every time he saw her. Moving to join her in the steering cabin, feeling the roll of the deck beneath his feet, he watched her. Her eyes were bright with the excitement of her new acquisition, and her smile was brilliant.

“Isn’t she gorgeous, Jack?”

“Stunning,” he agreed, his eyes only on her. He stepped up behind her and laid his hands on her hips, her white trousers smooth against his fingertips. Dipping his head, he pressed his mouth to her neck; she hummed with pleasure and arched to give him better access. 

“Well, hello inspector,” she said on a note of laughter. “What brought this on? Not that I’m complaining.”

“I was just reminded of how beautiful you are, and how much I want you,” he said against her skin. “How long until we get to where we’re going, Miss Fisher?”

“About another thirty minutes,” she replied, her voice warm with desire, “though if you keep on with that, we might be delayed.” 

Jack laid another soft kiss at the base of her neck, but momentarily stilled his hands, which had slid up to wrap around her ribcage. “You look very impressive, here in this position of command,” he murmured, his lips trailing up her neck. 

“Do I?” Phryne turned her head slightly toward him, and he took the opportunity to nibble at her ear. She gasped a little, shifting slightly against him, and Jack moved a half-step forward to press his chest against her back. “And do you like it when I’m in control, Jack?” She wiggled her hips a little, nudging his hardening cock with her bottom. Jack shifted slightly, his hands falling to her hips again as he nestled into the crease of her buttocks.

“Very much,” he murmured. He stroked his fingers along the wide band at the bottom hem of her blouse. “I find myself rather _stimulated_ , I must admit.” He moved his head to the other side of her neck, giving it the same treatment, his lips brushing softly along the column of her throat, and his tongue occasionally darting out to taste her skin.

“God, Jack, I…” She sucked in a breath when his fingers found their way underneath the edge of her blouse, brushing softly against her naked belly. “I can’t think when you do that.”

“Do what, darling?” He pushed his hand inside her blouse, flattening it against her stomach, his thumb brushing the underside of her breast. “Touch you?”

“Yes,” she admitted. 

He could feel her lungs laboring under his palm and slid his other hand up to meet the first, both hands now resting along her ribs, the line of his forefingers just brushing the silk of her brassiere and his thumbs caging her breasts from either side.

“Jack…” she protested softly. “I really should pay attention, at least until we’re in open water.”

“All right,” he responded, pulling his hands away from her breasts and dropping them back to her hips. “Besides, it’s becoming important that we get where we’re going as quickly as possible.” He nudged her bottom with his cock.

“You mean you won’t be chiding me for my speed, inspector?” She tilted her head to touch his cheek, and he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“I suppose I can let you off with a warning this time, Miss Fisher,” he murmured, straightening so that he could look over her shoulder. Looking out at the bay, he watched the way she maneuvered around the other ships, heading toward the deepest water. Even out of practice, she was magnificent, her movements assured and her eyes clear. 

“When we get to wherever we’re going,” he said casually, “I hope that it’s secluded, because I have every intention of christening this boat as soon as we weigh anchor.”

“Oh really?” Phryne sent him a sidelong glance, and he saw the flush on her cheekbones; a rush of pleasure flowed through him. He’d done that. He let go of her waist, stepping slightly back and setting his hands on her shoulder. His hands stroked softly along her bare arms, trailing feather touches along the lines of her muscles to her elbows, then back up..

“Mmm, yes.” His voice was low and purposeful. “I plan to take the time between here and there to arouse you as much as I possibly can—” one hand anchored at the base of her neck, his thumb stroking her nape, he trailed the fingertips of the other down her back, drawing slow curling lines that made her shiver “—and then, when we’re no longer in motion, I will lay you out right here in the pilot’s cabin and show you just how stimulated I am.” He lifted his right hand to brush the backs of his fingers up her arm, settling it against the other side of her neck.

“Well, you’re doing a bang-up job already,” she admitted, her hands flexing against the ship’s wheel. 

“Do let me know if I’m endangering us, will you?” He kept his voice quiet, his mouth close to her ear. Letting himself imagine what to do once they’d anchored, he moved closer again, turning his face into her hair to take a deep breath. She smelled of French perfume and lavender soap, the notes combining deliciously; his cock hardened even more—he’d been trained, like Pavlov’s dogs, to associate her scent with sexual pleasure, and he couldn’t find it in himself to object.

“I will, inspector, and we’re safe enough. Do your worst.” Phryne looked back at him and licked her lips, then transferred her weight from one foot to the other to close the distance between them.

Jack slid his hands forward, his fingertips circling against her collarbones. He could feel the minute shifts of her muscles as she guided the boat; curious, he slid his palms to her upper arms, enjoying the way her skin shifted as she moved. 

“Is that a challenge, Miss Fisher?” He lifted his eyes to the bay and saw only a couple of other small boats, all of them at a reasonable distance from the _Ena_. Good. “Are you certain you can keep us from shipwreck?”

“It is, and I am.” He could see that though her eyes were turned forward, she bit her lip lightly. “Carry on.”

“Well, in that case…” He shifted his hands from her arms back to her hips, his thumbs pressing against the upper curve of her bottom and his fingers riding along her hip bones. “Do you have our heading, Miss Fisher?” He pulsed his hips against her backside.

“I do,” she replied, a little breathlessly.

“And do you need to concentrate at the moment?”

“Only enough to keep us pointed in the right direction.”

“Excellent.” Jack slid both hands up her sides to cup her breasts, and Phryne leaned back against him. Giving her breasts a light squeeze, Jack circled her nipples with the pads of his fingers, enjoying the way they poked out, small and hard. Flattening his hands, he ran his palms over them; she hummed with pleasure, and he and he did it again before closing his hands over her breasts again. Phryne shifted her hips against him, and Jack pressed a kiss to her jaw as he gently kneaded her soft flesh.

“Jack…” Her voice was breathy, and he read the need in it.

Sliding his hands back to her waist, Jack placed one hand on her pelvis, pressing his hips into her from behind. He let out a soft growl at the feel of his hardened length against her soft buttocks. Pushing the fingers of the other hand under her blouse, he stroked upward slowly, sweeping softly side to side to enjoy the texture of her skin, until his fingertips skated over the silk of her brassiere. He drew slow, diminishing circles over her breast, lingering over her nipple for long moments as he watched over her shoulder, visualizing her pale blue lingerie and watching the outline of his knuckles through the fabric of her blouse. When she whimpered, his other hand slid downward over her trousers to cup her between her legs; she cried out as his fingers pressed against her sex, and he tilted his head to set his open mouth against her throat. 

Pinching her nipple lightly between two fingers, he rubbed the rapidly dampening fabric over her most sensitive flesh and felt Phryne adjust her stance to give him more room to work. Her breathing was heavy, and he trailed his mouth up to the sensitive spot behind her ear, loving the way she felt against him.

“God, Phryne,” he groaned, pulling his hand from between her legs—she cried out at its loss—to unfasten the buttons at her side. “I need to touch you.”

“Please, Jack,” she moaned, her knuckles white against the wheel.

In response, he tucked the fingers on her breast under the bottom edge of her brassiere and slid his hand inside. Phryne let out a high-pitched gasp, and Jack couldn’t hold back a groan of pleasure as his palm settled directly over her breast. When he’d flicked open the last button at her hip, his other hand followed suit, pushing gently into her trousers and knickers to cup between her legs again, this time skin on skin.

“Christ, Phryne, you’re so wet already,” he growled against her neck, his fingers exploring her, “I’m going to slide right in.” He followed the words with action, sliding one long finger inside her body as his thumb circled her clit. Phryne’s head fell limply backward to rest against his shoulder as he began to move against her, his finger pumping slowly in and out. 

Lifting his head to look at her face, Jack watched her reactions—her eyelids drooped as she fought to keep her eyes on where they were headed while focusing on what his hands were doing, her mouth was slightly open, and she breathed in short gasps. It took effort to make himself glance up to double-check that they were still on course and not nearing anything that would require quick reflexes to avoid. The other ships he’d seen before had vanished, their own headings different enough to take them out of sight, and though he could see the shoreline, it felt like they were alone on the water. He should have known Phryne would have it under control. Turning his attention back to her, he slid a second finger in alongside the first, loving the way she arched against him, pushing her nipple into his hand and her head into his shoulder.

“How much farther, Phryne?” His cock was aching, his balls tight as the pressure built.

“So close, Jack,” she gasped, and though that hadn’t been what he meant, he smiled to hear it.

Jack adjusted his stance, sliding one foot between hers, his thigh pushing her legs open wider. Phryne whimpered, one hand lifting to grasp his hair as her hips moved helplessly against him. He moved the hand on her breast to cover the opposite side, his arm across her chest, and pulled his slick fingers out to concentrate on her clit, wanting to push her into shattering.

It didn’t take long. Her scream of release was accompanied by her fingernails biting into his scalp and a gush of moisture over his hand; Jack held her close as her body shook. As always, she was beautiful in release, and Jack recited _Henry V_ ’s St. Crispin’s day speech in his head, hoping that concentrating on the words would provide distraction enough to keep him from coming. When Phryne relaxed against him again, he pulled the hand between her thighs up to her waist, and wrapped it around her, his hand on her breast going still. 

“Are we there yet, Miss Fisher?” He spoke against her ear, and watched her eyes flutter open and her hands flex on the ship’s wheel. 

She took a moment to get her bearings, looking around them. The shore was close, and Jack sent up a quick prayer of thanksgiving for that.

“Ah!” The exclamation was a burst of air. “This will do.” Straightening without pulling away, she steered them toward a small, apparently deserted cove where lush greenery edged the deep blue water. “Jack, would you prepare to weigh anchor, please?”

“Of course, captain. Just point me in the right direction.” He dropped a kiss to her cheek before stepping away from her.

“It’s there,” she said, raising a hand to indicate the side of the boat, and Jack’s gaze followed the gesture, spotting a tall brass bollard attached to a crank chain.

With a nod, he stepped over to the bollard, his eyes following the length of the chain to where it hung over the edge of the boat. A quick glance showed him that the anchor was hanging against the side, and a hard look at the cranking mechanism revealed the release. He let the anchor drop with a splash, watching the chain feed out until it hit the bottom, then locking it down again.

Job done, he turned purposefully back toward Phryne, who had turned to watch him, her lips curling into a smile.

“What was that you were saying about christening _Ena_ , Jack?” She ran her eyes down his body, lingering on the front of his trousers, where his arousal was evident. “Shall we move down to the cabin?”

Jack moved toward her, undoing his shirt buttons as quickly as he could. “No. Here.” 

Her eyes widened in surprise, and before she could respond, he was upon her, pulling her close. Stroking her hands up his chest, inside his shirt, Phryne whispered his name; Jack felt it as a breath against his lips in the instant before she pressed her mouth to his, her tongue sliding deeply into his mouth. Keeping one arm around her waist, Jack slid the other hand up her back to thread his fingers into her hair, cradling her skull in his palm as he kissed her.

Phryne looped one hand around the back of his neck and stroked the other downward to palm his erection through his trousers; Jack moaned into her mouth, his hips jerking. Her nimble fingers loosed the button at his waist and slid inside, under his smalls, to take his naked length in hand.

“Phryne…” Her name was a groan, and he turned her, setting her back against the window and taking a step so that her hand fell away. 

“But Jack…” She grasped at his collar, trying to pull him close again, and he shook his head, dropping to his knees, his eyes on hers.

“Let’s get you out of these wet things, shall we?” She laughed, as he’d intended, but when he leaned close to breathe in the scent of her arousal, she whispered his name. Hooking his fingers in the sides of her trousers, he tugged them and her knickers down her legs to pool at her feet. Groaning, he buried his face between her thighs, his tongue extending to reach what he could of her sensitive flesh with her ankles bound together by her clothing.

“Jack!” Her hands tangled in his hair now, Phryne fought to pull her foot free and give him room, but her shoe was caught in the hem of her trousers. When she called his name again, tugging at his hair, Jack lifted his head. “My shoes. Please, Jack!” 

He glanced down, his wits slowed by the taste of her, and saw the problem. “Lift your foot,” he ground out, wrapping his hand around the back of her shoe to pull it off her foot without unbuckling—he knew she would chide him if he ran her stocking, but in this moment, he could not have cared less. 

Phryne shook the trousers off of that foot, and lifted her knee to set the ball of her foot on the bench that ran along the back of the cabin, spreading herself open to him. Jack dove in, his hands on her thighs as he devoured her, his tongue sliding between her folds to find her clitoris, drawing it gently into his mouth and suckling. She was already wet, and the scent of her rose around him, mingling with salt air and brass polish. He loved the flavor of her juices, and he dropped one hand to grasp his cock, holding tightly beneath his glans to keep himself from coming as he fucked her with his tongue.

“ _Jack!_ ” Phryne cried as she came for a second time, her head falling backward to hit the window with a _thunk._ Jack lifted his head to watch her—it was one of his favorite sights, after all—and then surged to his feet, pushing his own trousers down his hips. 

Stepping close, he kissed her, and she returned the kiss with abandon, her foot on the bench sliding to the floor. Jack propped his hands on the glass beside her head and pulsed his hips against her, his cock cradled by the softness of her belly.

Breaking the kiss, Jack rested his forehead against hers. “Phryne, your device?” His voice was hoarse with desire.

“In my bag,” she gasped, the regret plain in her voice, and he groaned. “It’s all right, Jack,” she said, her hands dropping to wrap warmly around his cock. 

“I can pull out,” his voice didn’t sound like his own; he couldn’t focus on anything but the feel of her hands on him as she stroked him strongly, her thumb swiping the moisture at his tip to spread it along his length.

“Or we can do something else,” she replied breathlessly. Placing one hand on his chest, she pushed lightly and he took a step back. With a kiss to his lips, she dropped to a crouch, her back against the wall. Both hands back on his cock, she guided him between her lips.

Jack groaned loudly—her mouth was hot and wet, and she knew just how to use her tongue to best advantage. His head fell forward, and he watched her; the light that fell over her was diffused by the fabric of his shirt, which hung open, draping her. Remnants of crimson lipstick transferred to the skin of his cock as she pulled him nearly to the back of her throat and then out again, using the flat of her tongue along his length. He held himself rigid, knowing that if he didn’t, he’d lose control. A soft mantra of curse words escaping his mouth, Jack watched, his thighs and buttocks tensing as he tried not to thrust while Phryne tormented him, sucking at his tip, licking down his shaft, and pulling his testicles, one at a time, into the warmth of her mouth.

After a few minutes, she pulled back and looked up at him, her hands continuing to stroke him while she spoke.

“Jack, it’s all right.” 

“Wh-what?” Jack had trouble forcing the word out of his tight throat, his muscles clenched with the effort of holding still.

“Fuck my mouth, Jack.” Phryne’s words were bold, and her eyes were so blue, her mouth swollen from his kisses and his cock. Jack nearly spent right then and there.

“Don’t… want... hurt you,” he managed, though he could no longer keep his hips from thrusting against the cage of her fingers.

“You won’t,” she promised, her smile soft. “I want this.” She licked her lips, catching the bottom one between her teeth in unmistakable anticipation.

Jerkily, Jack nodded, and Phryne’s smile bloomed. She leaned forward again, feeding him between her lips, then urged him closer. Resting her head against the wall, she cast her eyes up at him and gave a tiny nod, her tongue sweeping the underside of his cockhead.

Slowly, Jack began to move, his hips pushing tentatively and then withdrawing; he found himself working with the slight rocking motion of the boat with each small advance. After a few thrusts, Phryne hummed against his head—the sensation exquisite, though Jack could see her dissatisfaction—and wrapped one hand around the base of his cock to limit how far he could thrust. Jack let out a shuddering breath; that action freed him from worrying that he would choke or injure her by thrusting too far or too hard. Licking his lips, he set his jaw and began to move less carefully, the feel of her mouth exquisite as he swived it.

Jack’s orgasm built quickly—with each thrust, he felt Phryne’s moans of pleasure along the length of his cock and the side of her hand pressing against his balls, and sounds of the wet clicking of her saliva and his own grunts of effort just added to the sea of sensation. When her other hand slid warmly down his thigh, then dropped away, he forced his eyes open—he didn’t remember closing them—to watch it slip between her thighs. The picture of her pleasuring herself as he pumped into her open mouth was more than he could stand; he shouted as his orgasm crashed over him, his hips stuttering against her mouth as he spent himself hotly down her throat.

Jack watched her face as Phryne, her fingers buried in her pussy, swallowed as much as she could, her other hand dropping to tweak her clit and push herself over into another climax. She sucked him hard as the wave hit her, and a groan of pleasure escaped him, his hips twitching; when her lips loosened, he pulled away, then dropped to his knees to pull her into an embrace.

Phryne’s arms came around him, and they settled together in the corner of the cabin. When their breathing calmed, she looked down at the both of them and began to chuckle quietly. He followed her gaze—her trousers were wrapped around one leg and her shoe lay on its side in the far corner; his shirt was hanging open from his shoulders and still fastened at the cuffs, his trousers bunched around his thighs. 

She tilted her head back to look at him, her lips curving in a satisfied smirk. “We’re a mess, inspector.”

He nodded, leaning in to nuzzle her cheek. “But a satisfied mess.” With a tilt of his head, he kissed her smiling mouth—she tasted of herself and him, and he had never found any flavor as alluring.

“I thought we might have lunch and maybe take a swim,” she admitted, when his mouth lifted off of hers.

“We could do that,” he agreed easily.

“Did you have another idea, inspector?” Phryne’s eyebrows rose as she considered him. “It’s not like you to refuse a meal.”

“Well, I just ate—” his lips twitched at her snort of amusement “—and I couldn’t help but notice how well-appointed the cabin downstairs is.”

“What did you think of it?” He thought he heard a note of shyness in her voice, and he dipped his head to press a kiss to her forehead.

“It’s fantastic,” he admitted. “I do think it needs… something, however.”

Her head rose from his chest, and she looked at him. “It does?”

“Mmm.” He fixed her with a serious look. “Perhaps it’s only that it’s so new, it doesn’t feel lived in. We’ve only begun to christen this boat, Miss Fisher.”

Phryne’s lips twitched, but she kept a straight face. “Oh, good point, Jack. We wouldn’t want to court bad luck by omitting anything.”

“My thoughts exactly. I suggest we start in the bedroom and work our way up. There’s the galley, and the card room, and the foredeck...” He tilted his head at her. “What do you say?”

“I say aye, inspector,” she said, her mouth curling into a broad smile. “Full speed ahead.”

**Author's Note:**

> For those who are interested, the yacht’s name is the SY Ena. I found a site that showed its [interiors](http://www.mossgreen.com.au/content/ena-australias-finest-steam-yacht/), and I've played fast and loose with them in this story. I hope you can forgive me. :D
> 
> Also, many, many thanks to Inzannatea, OllyJay, Fire_Sign, and Scruggzi, who helped me find a title for this fic - my original title was seriously awful, and I was considering a lyric from The Love Boat, when they offered to help. :D <3


End file.
